Pine Trees and Fake Outs
by crearealidad
Summary: I don't believe in UFOs. I hate rental cars. I hate road trips. And I'm pretty sure I hate West Virginia too.


**Set this... well at any point during the series that you want. Written for a comment_fic prompt over on LJ, so this is just a one shot, with no beta. Any issues are my own.**

* * *

He falls asleep somewhere around midnight, the open bag of sunflower seeds spilling down into the foot-well when he slumps against the window and his hand falls slack against his thigh.

She knew it would go like this. Yet another stake out, in yet another rental car, staring out at the rolling hills of West Virginia with little or no hope of seeing anything because there was nothing to substantiate the vague claims of a few locals who said they might have seen something hovering in the night sky every Friday night. She's pissed at him for dragging her out here, pissed at herself for letting him, and he's oblivious. The only real consolation is that she'd been right - he was way too tired for driving.

With a heavy sigh, she steals a drink of the iced tea he's left warming in center console and leans back, eyelids heavy. In truth, she's too tired for this too. Glancing over at Mulder, she finds him still dozing, mouth gaped half-open, so she reaches for the radio, switching it on. It's almost all static and of course, the only thing that comes through clear as day is country radio.

She considers waking him, but she's just too annoyed. Even if she woke him up, he'd just make fun of her for putting on country, slurp his iced tea, and otherwise pretend not to notice that she really, really doesn't want to be here tonight.

When the radio starts into a crooning country song about porch lights and pick-up trucks, she can't take it anymore. Shutting it down, she stares out into the darkness, trying to concentrate on the beauty of the scene instead of the idiotic reason they came up here to stare at the sky. Once she's certain that he's still sleeping, she unlocks the door and gets out of the car.

There's not really much to look out at here though. Especially at night. It's probably a gorgeous view in the day time but right now? It's mounds of black against the dark inky blue sky because it's too cloudy for stars, even this far away from the lights of the city. But it's warm and the smell of pine is better than stale rental car any day. At least there's that.

* * *

When he wakes up, she's up on top of the hood, leaned back against the windshield staring up at the sky, fingers clasped and folded on her stomach.

"Scully?"

"Hmm?" She doesn't turn to look as he gets out of the car, coming to stand next to the hood, trying to blink the sleep from his eyes.

"What are you doing?"

"You missed it," she says without hesitation, eyes still trained on the clouds she can barely make out for the darkness of the sky.

"I... I missed it? Scully?" His voice rises near the end and she glances over just in time to catch him spinning around, scanning the skyline. "What happened?"

"Mhm," she hums in confirmation, hiding her smile as his head tilts back further. Like he thinks he's going to find some sort of smoke trail or burst of light signalling the trail of a UFO.

"Did you get a picture? Scully? Seriously?"

Before she can say another word he's climbing back in the car, digging into the backseat for the camera when he suddenly goes still. She can't hold back her laughter as he stands back up, undisturbed camera bag in hand, is still laughing when he stalks back around the car and plops the bag against her stomach.

"Not funny," he grumbles, hopping up on the hood next to her. His long legs hand off the edge as he leans back, matching her reclining posture.

"It is, Mulder. You dragged me out here and _fell asleep_. I don't believe in UFOs. I hate rental cars. I hate road trips. And I'm pretty sure I hate West Virginia too. And you fell asleep," she points out slowly, clasping her fingers behind her head to pillow it, knocking her elbow against him in the process. "So yeah, Mulder, faking you out is hilarious."

He doesn't say anything for a while, though she can hear him shifting around for a comfortable position, the windshield wipers shifting as he contorts himself. Closing her eyes, she listens to him shift around, shoes clunking noisily against the metal until there's a harder sound. "Shit," he mutters and she fights the urge to look as she hears something sliding along the hood, what sounds like his gun, and then a dull thud as it hits the ground.

When he sits up to go after it, it's just too much for the hood. She hears it buckle under his weight with a low pop and can't stop the snort of amusement. "Scully..." he grumbles, sliding off the hood before squatting down to rustle through the tall grass for his weapon.

"This is fun," she remarks, smirking as he spins around, hands spanned out as he searches.

"C'mon, Scully. Help me out here."

"Nope."

"Sculleeeee," he whines, standing up to face her, probably pouting but she can't see it in the shadows.

With a sigh, she unhooks her hands and pushes herself upright, but just draws her legs up to sit crossed-legged as she watches him, grinning with amusement. "It's such a nice night, don't you think? Fresh air, the wind through the pines. Beautiful."

He sighs and sags back down to the ground, disappearing from sight in pursuit of his lost weapon. Smiling, she sets the camera bag beside her on the hood and turns back to look up at the sky.

* * *

"Ready to strangle me yet, Mulder?" she asks after a minutes, leaning over to try to get a glimpse of him.

"Yes," he growls, now crouched fully down on his hands and knees, nearly engulfed by shadows and straw-like grass.

"You know you're going to have to file a report for that dent you left in the hood..." she remarks casually, rapping her knuckles over the Mulder-sized depression in the metal.

"Right. And we'll have to file a lot more than just a report if I can't find my gun," he complains from the darkness.

"We? We? Your gun, your paperwork."

He's quiet for a while, nothing but the sound of dry grass rustling as he searches the darkness. When she hears him plop down heavily, sighing his defeat, she leans over the edge once more, looking down at his shadowed form. "Tell you what, Mulder. I'll make you a deal."

"What? I can't find my gun and we're in the middle of West Virginia with nothing for miles..."

"If you let me drive back, I might be willing to let you have my flashlight..." she offers with sweetest, most sugary tone she can manage without busting out in laughter.

"You have a flashlight?" He hops up on his feet, gawking at her. "Why didn't you tell me that ten minutes ago?"

"You didn't ask. So," she posits, scootching to the edge and dangling her legs off. "Think you can let my short legs do the driving?" She likes this so much better; usually she's the one who's fuming while he smirks and jokes and generally seems obvious to her annoyance.

"Fine. Fine, Scully. Just let me have that flashlight," he relents, covering his face with his hand before dragging it down.

Leaning to the side, she reaches into her jean pocket, pulling out the mini-flashlight and proffers it in the air in front of him. He goes to grab for it and she pulls it back, smiling. "Uh-uh. Keys first or no deal."

He mutters something under his breath as he pulls open the driver's side door before leaning in to yank out the keys. "Here, all yours."

She gives it up then, slipping off the hood as he flicks it on and starts searching. She slides herself into the driver's seat, tossing the camera bag into the back. Taking her time, she adjusts the mirror, the seat, and then the steering wheel before scooping up the pile of sunflower seeds under her feet. When he finally joins her, displaying his gun victoriously, she's settled in, seat belt buckled.

"Found it. I can't believe you didn't tell me you had a flashlight," he complains, sliding into her seat and finding his knees pushed up nearly to his chest. She waits, watching him squirm around until he finds the seat lever, shoving it all the way back, then smiles to herself when his head pops up in surprise at the sound of the engine starting up.

"Scully? Where are you going? The sun doesn't come up for another four hours."

But she's already got the car in reverse, pulling back out on the state highway. "Shut up, Mulder, I'm driving."


End file.
